


A Little Change

by IILesGeMeAuxII



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Acceptance, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Not Beta Read, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 22:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12714315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IILesGeMeAuxII/pseuds/IILesGeMeAuxII
Summary: Love, like all good things, is a compromise.





	A Little Change

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! It's my first time writing and English is not my first language so I hope it's not too bad of a read!

It all started on a slow, uneventful day.

Months have passed since the recall that had caused Overwatch to rise from the ashes and grace the world with its unwarranted existence once again. Now, operating as an illegal organization, re-establishing their presence while avoiding unwanted attention to themselves became no simple task. It had taken a number of grueling and carefully executed missions one after the other in order to accomplish. Exhausting, but it had paid off in the end.

For the first time in weeks, criminal activity was at an all time low. The lull in activity allowed the agents some down time and a chance for some much needed time for themselves. Whether this was actually something to celebrate or simply the calm before the storm had yet to be revealed, but for one agent the answer was clear.

Hanzo had been quietly enjoying his meal when he found himself accosted by one Jesse McCree. Something that was not necessarily an issue any longer. After his fateful reunion with Genji, he had come to offer his services for his brother’s cause and had gradually begun to grow accustomed to - dare he say even fond of - the odd individuals within Overwatch’s ranks. Most notably, said cowboy.

They had not always been this close. While the man had not expressed any form of open hostility upon his arrival, Hanzo was no stranger to the sensation of being watched. The gunslinger - as easygoing as he chose to appear - was not someone to be underestimated whether on the job or not.

Ironically, that had been the catalyst for their budding camaraderie. Their constant surveillance of the other had led to a mutual respect and acknowledgement of each other’s skills and capabilities. They grew to know each not only as the people they once were, but more importantly as the people they were trying their hardest to become. They saw each other at their highest and at their lowest, always at each other’s side whether in secret or in plain view. Neither even began to notice when they had begun to step past the lines of platonic friendship until it was too late.

It made a strange joy flutter in Hanzo’s chest. The fact that someone as difficult as himself with such a blood-stained history could still attract anyone’s attention without scaring them off was a miracle in and of itself. He was well aware that he was not _too_ terribly difficult to gaze upon, despite his usually stern face and graying hairs, but surely physical attraction would wear out at some point sooner rather than later. So after months of mutual pining, he would dare to say that it could possibly be more than just passing fancy - would be happy to even.

Truly, he would not have minded in the least to have the gunslinger stride up to him for another battle of wits and charm, but that was exactly the issue at hand. The man who had waltzed up to him was not Jesse McCree. At least, not the one he has come to know and love.

It had started out slowly. McCree’s distinct personal effects had disappeared little by little over the span of a few weeks. First, it had been the spurs. Said to have been bent out of shape after a miscalculated combat roll - the halls fell silent and lifeless without their merry jingle-jangle. Next had been the chaps and his iconic belt buckle. Forgone for some plain jeans and a basic leather belt under the excuse of having been lost in the wash. Then, it had been his beloved hat and serape - presumably sent to a nearby shop for repairs. As if anybody would believe that the man would let just any stranger do such a task on his personal treasures.

Still, no-one had said a word in foolish hopes that this was all some sort of phase or just some form of preparation for an upcoming infiltration job that they were unaware of.

This, though. This was the last he could take. Hanzo watched as this stranger - this neatly trimmed, hair-styled, jeans-wearing, buttoned-down stranger - came up to him and spoke.

“Good day, Hanzo. This is such fine weather we’re having, don’t you think?”

The door slid shut behind them as Hanzo dragged a bewildered McCree into his room and pinned him against the wall. The cowboy has dreamed of this moment, but he always thought it would have been under more romantic circumstances.

“ _What_ is the matter with you?” the archer hissed, leveling him with a look that left no room for argument.

“Beg your par- I mean, what are you talking about?” This was not the reaction he had been hoping for.

“ _That_ !” Hanzo exclaimed, pointing a finger in his face. “What has possessed you to do such a thing? To do _this!?_ ” He released his grip on the cowboy’s shirt to gesture at him in frustration.

“There are no undercover operations planned! There are no bounty hunters within the area that you must deceive! I do not understand,” he paused, taking a deep calming breath.

“I do not understand and I am worried.”

The last part came out as a whisper, spoken so softly that McCree has trouble believing he actually heard it in the first place. It is enough though. Hanzo Shimada, the strong, dependable man he has come to adore, is concerned - about him. He slowly encircled him in a tight embrace, resting his chin on a broad shoulder. Whether to ground himself or the archer, he does not know.

“I am so -,” he starts, letting out a mirthless little chuckle, “ ‘m so sorry, Hanzo.” He held the smaller man closer, huffing at his own foolishness. “Didn't’ mean t’ upset you. I’ll drop the charade now. I promise.”

Glad to hear that he would be getting his friend back, the archer reciprocated and practically squeezed the life out of the poor cowboy. An uncharacteristic display of emotion and vulnerability that only few others have ever been allowed to bare witness to. Neither of them made any intention to move away. They held each other in in a comfortable silence, satisfied to simply bask in the other’s presence.

“Why did you do this?” Hanzo asked, curious still despite his relief.

The cowboy pulled back to give him a sheepish smile. “I was just thinking that ... I might have a better chance with you if I made myself a bit more regular and a bit less … well, y’know, _me_ ,” he said with a shrug, now unable to face the archer.

Hanzo sighed, opting to pull Jesse back into their embrace rather than to berate him for his foolish assumptions. They stayed that way until they grew tired and slowly slumped down onto the floor - still entangled in one another. Content in the knowledge that no words needed to be said.

_I love you the way that you are._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave me some comments on how to improve and maybe even some kudos if you'd like!
> 
> Tumblr: https://iilesgemeauxii.tumblr.com/


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